Private Vegas Read Online Free PDF Page A

burn.”
    The girls turned, looked with amusement at the passengers in the Bentley, possibly took in the decal Gozan had slapped on the windshield:
Diplomat. Kingdom of Sumar.
    The blond girls laughed together, and then the girl who was driving said, “Not interested. At all.”
    The light changed, and the women in the blue sports car took a left turn toward West Hollywood. Khezir said to Gozan, “These sweeties are a good omen of things to come. However, I most liked that girl driver. I could see her under me.”
    He broke into Sumarin and described to Gozan in explicit terms what he would do to her. These were not completely fantasies, as Khezir was practiced in the art of performing sex while delivering pain. It was what turned him on.
    Gozan switched on the music and it drowned out Khezir’s words. There was a strategy, of course. And Khezir was ingenious, but he was young and could sometimes be a loose rocket.
    Gozan had to make sure he didn’t blow up the plan.

Chapter 8

     
    I AWOKE WITH a start, as if violently jerked out of a bad dream, the remains of a sharp sound in my head—but it was gone. A bright yellow light danced around me and licked at the darkness. Something was
burning
.
    Was the CH-46 about to blow? Was I there?
    Justine grabbed my arm.
    “Jack. What’s happening?”
    “Get dressed, Justine. We may have to leave.”
    I turned on the light, grabbed the phone from the nightstand, called 911. I gave my name and address as I walked to the east-facing window of the bedroom.
    I saw the pale light of the morning sun—and smoke curling through the bars of the gate. The fire was real, and it was burning outside between my front yard and the highway.
    I said to the 911 operator, “There’s a fire, big one. I don’t know what’s on fire.”
    “Fire department is on the way.”
    I pulled on my jeans, grabbed my gun, jammed it into my waistband, stepped into a pair of moccasins.
    “Jack!”
    “I’ll be right back.”
    I smelled smoke in the house, but the front door was cool. I opened it and walked outside into the stench of burning rubber and plastic that set off little explosions like land mines along the neural pathways of my brain.
    I had no doubt that I was in Malibu standing in front of my house, and at the same time, I was back
there
, carrying Marine Corporal Danny Young over my shoulder and away from the burning aircraft.
    Danny was a spectacular young man, funny and brave and filled with hope. I had talked to Danny as I carried him, told him that he was going to make it.
    I thought I was telling him the truth.
    But the truth was that we both died that night. I was the lucky one. Del Rio brought me back.
    Now Justine shouted to me from the doorway.
    “Jack! Be careful.”
    “I will,” I said. “Just, please, go inside.”
    I walked through the gate toward the fire that was being fanned by the sea breeze, gaining strength and momentum, starting to roam and consume new ground. It was alive, leaping up the trunks of palm trees, catching the husks and fronds as it burned.
    I was so transfixed by the blaze, I stopped and stared. The concussive wave of the explosion blew me off my feet and dropped me down hard.
    I was back there again.

Chapter 9

     
    I WAS ON my belly, my cheek flat on the grass.
    Justine was patting my face, calling my name. I looked past her to the fireball, what was left of my Lamborghini. It crackled with flames and the roiling smoke obscured everything downwind from the fire.
    Justine hugged me. “Oh God, Jack. Get up, get up
now.
”
    I groaned, said, “Ah, shit. My damned car.”
    Justine gripped my arm. She helped me up and now she was crying. “Your eyebrows are gone. Eyelashes too.”
    “They’ll grow back.”
    “I don’t care about your
eyebrows
, Jack. Your car
exploded
. You could have been
killed
.”
    She was panting as she looked at me, eyes wide with terror. I reached out, enfolded her in my arms. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”
    “Come on,” she